


Then He Should Have Stayed

by HideTheDecay



Series: A Broken Spirit Series [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 00:38:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11498145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HideTheDecay/pseuds/HideTheDecay
Summary: “Fenris, please.” He had never sounded so broken as he did with those words. “Do you remember when I told you that there are some things worse than death?” He voiced was choked, but there was something about him that was calming. He was ready for this and as he began to accept that it was going to happen, one way or another, he felt his stubborn will to live fading. “The only thing worse than this would be being made Tranquil and forgetting what it feels like to love you. I don’t want to forget and I will if I stay.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a spin off of A Broken Spirit (the first story in the series) and it takes place some time later from when they get to and leave Orlais.

A lot had changed and every morning he awoke to see Fenris laying with him, watching him sleep, he couldn’t help but be grateful that it had. Sleepy smiles would be exchanged and they’d spend some time kissing, before it was time to get up and start the day. It’d been like this for months and for the first time in years, he was excited to live again.

They were no closer to accomplishing their task of separating the connection they had, but as they’d grown close, the need to see it done became less urgent. It was important, since something as simple as a forced separation would see him dead, but in the meantime they stuck close together and that was fine by both of them.

The town they were in was one they’d been staying in for a couple of weeks now, doing odd jobs here and there to scrap together enough coin to last them for when they moved on to the next. It was a town with a port, which meant plenty of work and they’d ended up hanging around longer than they’d initially intended, simply because they were doing well for themselves.

The next step in their routine, after getting ready to go out, was to head out to the docks to where merchants were selling their wares and mercenaries were being hired. They would find something to eat, find some work, and get to it, returning ‘home’ each night with a little bit more coin between them.

This morning, however, ended up being a bit different. While strolling past the various stalls, a voice called out behind them. A voice calling Fenris’ name. Looking behind him, Anders’ eyes caught the source and he came to a dead stop, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open.

“Fenris!” Hawke called again, suddenly rushing forward to close the distance between them. He didn’t even seem to see Anders as he ran up to the elf and enveloped him in his arms. “I’ve been looking for you for months,” he breathed, his voice strained as his hands lifted to take hold of his cheeks so their eyes could meet, inches apart.

\---

Fenris had been lost in his thoughts, making plans for his next venture with his lover when it was time to put this town behind them, when he heard the voice call his name. A voice that he seldom even heard in his dreams anymore. The next thing he knew, he was wrapped up in gentle arms that knew just how to hold him and he was looking up into the face of the first man he'd ever dared to love.

“Hawke…” His voice broke on his name, his eyes drinking in the sight of him in complete shock. When he'd had a moment to process this, he threw his arms around him in return, tucking his face into the rogue’s shoulder.

\---

Anders stomach dropped and his heart rose into his throat as he watched them embrace. His eyes flicked between them several times, before coming to settle on the elf that had taken his heart from him. He hadn’t ripped it out of his chest, but he held it in his hands all the same. He took a slow step back from them, unable to tear his eyes away from the display, watching as Hawke released his grip on his cheeks to resume the embrace and cradle the back of his head.

“It’s you, it’s really you.” He sounded relieved.

As much as he wanted to hold him for the rest of his life, Hawke couldn’t help but draw back. He wanted to be able to see him and he feasted his eyes on him until he couldn’t take it and he had to close the distance to kiss him desperately.

\---

He froze, feeling a shiver run through him. He hadn't forgotten Anders and a terrible flush of guilt warmed every inch of him, but he needed this. He hadn't realized just how badly he needed this. He kissed Hawke back searingly, his fingers sliding back into his dark hair as he poured himself into this. He was so sorry he'd ever left that night and chased after Anders in the first place.

\---

His agonized amber eyes finally broke away, his expression twisting with heartache so sharp that he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think, he could only feel and he’d never felt pain like this. Not when Karl had been taken away, not when he’d killed him with his own hand, not when he’d been pushed aside by the very man in front of them now. Both of them, now.

He was continuing to back away, the world seeming to lose all color and sound, but when he stumbled and nearly fell, everything seemed to snap into place. He couldn’t stay here. He turned on his heel and he took off, running as fast as he could to get as far away from them as possible.

\---

The racing footfalls brought Fenris out of his out of his daze and he broke from the heated kiss, his eyes finding Anders. They widened and panic hit him, making him tear away from his lover's arms and go pelting after the mage. “Anders! Stop! You have to stop!”

\---

He heard the call behind him, but it just made him throw himself even harder into it. He heard Hawke’s bewildered call and he knew they were both chasing him. Rather, Fenris was chasing him and Hawke was chasing Fenris. The elf was faster than him and he knew it was inevitable that he would catch up if he didn’t try to lose him, so he began to dart through the alleys of the town, ignoring the voice in his mind telling him to stop.

\---

It was quite a chase and it took him several twists and turns to finally catch his newer lover. When he was in reach, he tackled Anders, wrapping his arms tightly around him and holding him. “I'm sorry.” He breathed against Anders’ back. “I'm sorry, Anders…”

\---

He hit the ground hard and felt the weight of the elf on his back, keeping him pinned to the ground. The words burned him and he struggled roughly, desperate to get out of his grasp. “Let me go. Let me go. Let me go!” he repeated quickly, his voice growing sharper each time. Hot tears squeezed out from the corners of his eyes and fell onto the dirt in front of him as he thrashed.

Hawke, having lost them among the twists and the turns, hadn’t caught up to them and was seeking them out, calling Fenris’ name from somewhere nearby.

\---

“Anders, please…” He wasn’t going to let him go. Wasn’t going to let him race off to his death no matter how much the mage wanted to be away from him right now. His body began to glow, hoping to soothe the man with the lyrium he could give him, though he knew it would do little right now while they wrestled in the dirt.

\---

“Justice,” he breathed, begging the spirit to take over. To free him from the strong arms that had become so comforting to him, that were forcing life into him when he didn’t want it. He pleaded to him to help him, but he was told in few words that it would help no one for him to die. “Please. I don’t care. I don’t care,” he choked, hardly realizing he was speaking aloud. He didn’t care if he died from this.

\---

“Please…” He wanted to soothe this new pain he’d caused him desperately and he found himself nuzzling the back of the mage’s neck tenderly. “I love you, Anders. Please stop.” He did love him. He truly did. Even if this man would never truly have him the way Hawke did, pieces of him, big pieces, belonged to Anders after everything they’d been through.

\---

The words made his heart give a tormented throb, but he grew still. He continued to cry and though his tears were staining his cheeks red, it wasn’t obvious apart from the stuttering of his breaths and the thickness of his voice. It was then that Hawke spotted them at the mouth of the alley and hurried over, “Fenris, what in the Maker’s name is happening?” This was his first time really registering that Anders was there and he didn’t understand what was going on.

The moment Anders heard his voice, however, the calm faded and he returned to struggling, though it wasn’t nearly as violent as it had been when he’d first been taken down. He couldn’t stay here and be witness to their reunion, he couldn’t watch them fall back into each other’s arms, tossed aside and never meaning more than a cheap replacement.

\---

“A lot is happening.” Fenris tightened his arms around Anders when he began to struggle again. “Meet me back at the docks and I’ll explain everything. Then...if you’re still happy to see me, we’ll go from there.” Right now, he needed to deal with Anders and he was well aware that he’d likely lost them both, but Hawke’s arms were his home and he’d never been more certain of that then he’d been when he finally felt them around him again. He had to set things as right as he could.

\---

Hearing what Fenris had to say to him broke him and he began to sob audibly, his fingers digging into the dirt harshly. He’d never thought that Hawke would come back into their lives, not after they’d strayed so far from that path together. It had been a lie though. He’d strayed from it, Fenris hadn’t. He never meant to stay with him, he’d always meant to go back to Hawke as soon as their connection was broken and he was only realizing it now.

Hawke was alarmed by what he was witnessing, but he could see that his presence wasn’t helping so with great reluctance, he turned and headed back the way they came, anxious for him to return and explain all of this to him.

\---

Once Hawke was gone and it was just the two of them, Fenris turned Anders around in his arm to hold him. He couldn’t stand to see him hurting like this, but what was worse was knowing that he was the cause of this pain and so there was no way he could make it better. “I’m sorry, Anders. I never thought we’d see him again. I never…” Never thought he’d have to make a choice like this.

\---

He wasn’t going to survive this. If they’d found a way to separate, maybe, but he since they hadn’t, he had little choice and he wasn’t going to live the rest of his life watching a happiness that he would never have. “Take it,” he breathed, his eyes burning with pain. “Take it, it’s yours.” He meant his heart. It was his and he wanted him to be the one to take it from him. To do what he’d meant to months ago and tear it from his chest like he should have all along.

\---

“Please…” He didn’t know what his lover meant, but he didn’t like the sound of it at all. “I love you. I’m always going to love you.” He leaned down to kiss his forehead, which he found far too warm in Ander’s current state of distress. “Just calm down, let’s talk about this.”

\---

Hearing that just worsened the agony and he grabbed his hand, pulling it roughly up to his chest and over his heart. “Take it, please.” He was abandoning him and the least he could do was stop this misery. Justice was trying his hardest to calm him, but he could barely hear the spirit. All he could see was the face of the elf laying over him, so hauntingly beautiful and he found himself trying to memorize it, as if he could bring it with him into the world beyond. “Justice is a good spirit. I know you’ve seen it, he won’t hurt you. You keep him calm and you would never corrupt him like I did.”

\---

It wasn’t until he started speaking of taking Justice that he truly understood what he was asking of him. His eyes went wide with horror and after a moment of stillness and shock, he shook his head vehemently. “No.” He let the hand over Anders’ heart glow, but rather than plunge it inside, he caressed the area tenderly. “You have to stay. We’ll find some way to make this work. It will be alright.” He had no idea how it would. Now that he’d seen Hawke again, he yearned for him. He was dying to know what his lover had been up to, to listen to his tales of adventure as he lounged by his side, pressed skin-to-skin, but not until he knew that Anders would be alright.

\---

“Fenris, please.” He had never sounded so broken as he did with those words. “Do you remember when I told you that there are some things worse than death?” He voiced was choked, but there was something about him that was calming. He was ready for this and as he began to accept that it was going to happen, one way or another, he felt his stubborn will to live fading. “The only thing worse than this would be being made Tranquil and forgetting what it feels like to love you. I don’t want to forget and I will if I stay.”

\---

“You won't. You won't forget. It'll be okay.” He couldn't believe Anders would wish to die rather than go on now that Hawke was back in their lives. He knew the mage would hurt over this, but he had no idea that the feelings really ran this deep. He would never have trusted that they did before now. “Please.” He leaned down again and this time kissed his lips.

\---

He sucked in a shuddering breath when their lips meant and despite his resignation, he couldn’t help but meet it desperately. It was not unlike the desperation that Hawke had offered him, but there seemed to be something raw in it. It would be their last kiss and he would take everything he could from it.

\---

He kissed him hard, wanting him to know that he meant what he said. He did love him. It was wrong of him, now that he had a real chance at a life with Hawke, but he knew that from this moment on he would feel wrong no matter which man he kissed. There was no longer a right answer. The rogue was the man he belonged with, but the mage was the man who genuinely would not be able to live without him. They were both men who loved him and they were both men he didn’t deserve. He hadn’t noticed how hard he’d begun to shake, clutching desperately at Anders as he kissed him to keep him pressed close.

\---

He finally reached for him, sliding his arms around the slender frame he knew so well and holding him tightly. If it wasn’t for the fact that this was Fenris’ desire, he never would have considered letting him go, but he wasn’t going to chain him down to him if it wasn’t what he wanted. He’d lived enough of his life in chains and he wouldn’t force that kind of unhappiness on him, not if he could help it. It was freeing them both, really.

\---

He kept his hold on him tight, kissing him until he was entirely breathless. He tucked his face into Anders’ shoulder as he panted for air, his breaths shuddering slightly. “I never thought we’d see him again. I can’t expect to have you if I love him and he won’t want me once he knows that I love you. Today I have both of the men I love and today I will lose you both. Funny how that works.” Though there was no humor in his tone, only dry misery.

\---

When the kiss ended, his grip loosened, but he kept his arms around him until he spoke. Then they fell away. He was frightfully calm, showing none of the emotions that he had before. “Then don’t tell him.” It would reduce what they’d had to nothing, but that had already happened, hadn’t it? “Just…” As resigned as he felt, it still was difficult for him to say this, ‘Just go with him and pretend nothing has happened between us.” It felt like a knife was pushing deep into his heart, but Fenris going on to live a life of misery made all of this so pointless. It was better that he might be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

\---

“You’re insane, mage.” A title he only used with him now in jest. He nuzzled his cheek into his shoulder lightly. “I can only go with him if you come with me and I will not keep what I have with you from him. That is not fair to either of you.” Though fairness had really not been in the cards for any of them.

\---

“I’m not going with you, Fenris,” he replied, something very final in his voice. He wondered what would have happened if he’d kept running. If Fenris would have continued to chase him. How far? When would he have decided enough was enough? It didn’t matter. “I’m staying here.” It was cruel for him to ask for him to come, to suggest that he might bask in the shadow of his relationship with Hawke.

\---

He drew another deep, shuddering breath. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let the man throw away his life so that he could pursue his own desire. Of all people, he couldn’t do that to Anders. “I will stay. Just let me go explain to him why I have to say goodbye. I owe him that.” His voice was incredibly tight and he really wasn’t sure what he could even say to Hawke. The lover who had been searching for him for months on end, the lover who had first chipped away at the walls around his heart. But he couldn’t let Anders die for this.

\---

There was a flicker of something in his expression and it twisted slightly, emotion breaking through. “No,” he whispered, knowing that wasn’t an option, “You’ll never be happy with me, not anymore.” It was Hawke he wanted and if he gave him up, just for him, he would resent him for the rest of their lives. It would end up destroying them.

\---

“I will. I’ve been very happy with you.” He insisted and it was true. He had been very happy. But it would never be the same now. Now that he’d been reunited with the love he should have had from the very start. The love he would have kept forever had he not chased Anders that night. “I love you.” But he loved Hawke and the thought that he was waiting for him by the docks just to have his heart broken was enough to make him ill.

\---

The words didn’t sting as much as they had before, but he knew the truth behind them. Even if he did, he loved Hawke more. “You won’t,” he countered softly, lifting a hand up to stroke his cheek as he met his gaze. “I want you to be happy - for both of us - and he’s the only person that can give you what you want.” His voice strained and it was clear he wished it could be him.

\---

“Stop talking like that.” He forced himself to speak firmly, but he leaned gently into the hand that touched him. “If you think I’m going to let you die for what I want, you don’t know me at all. Come now, at least stay close while I say goodbye to him. Then we’ll take our coin and get out of here.” He almost made it sound like it would be fairly easy for him. That it wouldn’t hurt him in a way that could never be mended to send Hawke away after all this time.

\---

All that meant was that if they had not been bound together, that he would already be gone. But then, that was true of everything they had, wasn’t it? It was their bond that had brought them together and it was the only reason that they would stay together, if he let Fenris do this. “I’m tired, Fenris.” He’d never spoken truer words and the exhaustion he felt was helping him to give up. “I’ve felt enough pain for one lifetime and knowing that you’re with me… the only reason you’re with me is because I will die otherwise…” There was no happiness in that, for either of them.

\---

“You know that is not the only reason. You know how happy you make me.” He insisted, though it would always be different now and he knew that. He shook his head, feeling so ill about any of the options they had from this point. “What if I give you all of Justice back? He’s happier with you. You loved Hawke long before you loved me, you two could take care of each other.” He didn’t want to die, not at all. But if the alternative was Anders dying for him to be happy, as if he could be happy knowing he’d directly caused his lover’s death, it might be the only viable solution. It would not be a sin in the eyes of the Maker if he did it for someone else.

\---

His eyes widened and then suddenly turned fierce, “No!” His hands shot up and he held his cheeks, suddenly meeting his gaze with a firmness that he hadn’t seemed capable of any longer. “I don’t love Hawke,” he told him, his feelings for the rogue having long since faded after opening his heart up to the warrior, “I love you.” That was the difference between them and tears returned to his eyes as said it.

\---

“I love you too, but I think you’ll love him again given a little time. If nothing else, you could befriend him again and you could look after each other. That’s what I want.” He doubted that Anders’ feelings for Hawke had vanished completely. A few of those charming smiles and the mage would be swooning over him just like the old days. Feeling a little conviction from Anders was refreshing and he stole another fierce but brief kiss from him.

\---

His expression twisted incredulously. He thought... he really thought that he could run back to Hawke? His heart was not the one split and he’d offered it to him to take into his hands, to end his misery at losing him and he thought he could just move on? Slowly, a look of determination filled his eyes. He wasn’t going to let him continue this line of thought.

“Justice?” he whispered, speaking to the spirit that had long since fallen silent.

_Are you certain?_

As he stared up at Fenris, looking desperately over his face, he gave a slight nod, and then there was a blinding flash of light as he took over. He grabbed hold of the elf and plunged into him, trying to find that place he had so long ago, the place where he’d would have tipped into him, if he hadn’t violently pulled himself away.

\---

“Anders!” He wasn’t sure what was happening, but the sudden change alarmed him deeply. He tried to pull free, but at the same time his fingers locked in the mage’s robes, shaking him hard as if he could snap him out of whatever this was. “Anders, stop!”

\---

It didn’t take long for him to find the place and rather than pull himself back from it, he dived into it. There shift was sudden and the spirit felt an overwhelming sense of peace, the elf’s connection to the Fade giving him a calm that he’d not felt since he’d resided there himself. He was whole. His perspective had suddenly changed and rather than looking up towards the sky, he was looking down towards the ground to where the mage lay, the light gone from both his skin and his eyes.

_It will be okay, Fenris._

\---

“No…” He could feel the change in the body he held and the spirit speaking to him confirmed his greatest fear. “No…” He shook Anders harder, knowing it would do no good. Knowing that it was too late. “No!” He started to shriek the word, shouting himself hoarse as he clutched the mage.

\---

The same comforting words that he’d been offering to Anders before, he now offered to Fenris. It hadn’t helped him and he knew better than to think it would help now, but it wouldn’t stop him from trying. He could feel the elf’s pain sharply and it mixed with his own at losing a friend that he cared about deeply, but it had become plain that this was what was best for all of them and when the mage asked him to, he couldn’t refuse him.

\---

He released Anders’ body, tearing at his hair instead as if he could pull the voice out that way. “Bring him back!” He shrieked, having little voice left, but he knew he couldn’t. There was no pulling him back from the Fade and he knew that. He couldn’t stop himself from demanding it anyway.

\---

_I cannot. We must return to Hawke, tell him what has happened, and take care of Anders._

It would not be just for them to leave him as he was. A burial or perhaps a pyre would need to happen, to honor the mage, before they moved on. He didn’t know where the elf intended to go, but wherever it was, there was good to be done and they would do it together.

\---

He couldn’t just leave Anders here. Not even just to get Hawke. He gingerly closed the mage’s eyes, then stood, pulling him up into his arms. With no marks on him, he looked as if he could simply be sleeping. He was shaking so hard he could barely manage the weight of the man he could easily carry on any other day and he was only distantly aware of the silent, warm tears that rolled down his cheeks as he walked back for the docks.

\---

With every minute that passed, Hawke was getting all the more restless and he was close to returning to the alley, just to make sure everything was okay. It become unnecessary when looked over and saw Fenris returning to him, but he could immediately see that something was wrong. Not only in the way he was carrying the mage, but in his expression and the way he was holding himself.

“Fenris?” he asked, hurrying to meet him and noticing just how limp his companion was. “Fenris, what’s wrong?” The sight of his tears alarmed him as much as they had when he’d seen them on Anders. “Is he okay?”

\---

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out at all. Instead, he just shook his head, cradling the man to his chest as the rogue grew near. He could no longer support Anders’ weight, nor his own, so he let his knees give out and dropped to kneel on the ground where he held him. Forced to stay at the mage’s side, he hadn’t felt alone in months. But right now, even with his lover rushing to him and a new presence in his head, he felt completely and utterly alone.

\---

His eyes widened and his own knees fell to join him. “What is it?” He looking searchingly at the mage and that was when he noticed what was off. No, that wasn’t right. Without waiting for permission from either of them, he reached out and pressed his fingers to his neck, feeling for a pulse. There was none. “Fenris, what…?” His voice was weak. “What happened?”

\---

Where could he even start? It took some time for him to find his voice again, though it was hitched unevenly with his silent sobs. “When I tried to kill him that night, my lyrium bonded with Justice. We couldn’t separate. We’ve tried for months, but we couldn’t. We got close. Closer than we should have.” The words were rushed, the explanation feeling so unimportant in his grief. “I love him. _I love him,_ Hawke. But when I saw you again, I knew you had my heart. He knew it too, so he…” He was trying to get it all out, but he couldn’t and his face twisted in agony, a harsh sob coming out of what had previously been silent weeping. “He died for me. He did this so I could go with you and be happy.”

\---

If Varric had been telling this tale, he wouldn’t have believed it. Not for a moment. Coming from Fenris, it was still hard to believe, but his tears spoke the truth. As did everything he’d seen from both of them since stepping off the ship. He stared at him, a flicker of hurt in his eyes, to know that in all the time he’d spent wondering if he was going to come back and then searching for him, he’d fallen for someone else. For Anders. Crushed as he was, it was nothing like the agony that had been flowing so openly from the mage in the alley, and he drew back a little, his eyes taking in the tragic sight before him.

“He killed himself?” he confirmed, the words sounding numb to his own ears. The mage, who he’d come to resent terribly for having taken Fenris away from him, in more ways than one now, had given up his life just because he’d come here?

\---

He nodded, hating to actually hear the words. He could see the betrayal that had crossed Hawke’s eyes, just as he expected and swallowed hard. “I won’t blame you if you hate me for this. It’s no less than I deserve. But please help me. We have...we have to…” They had to bury him. He couldn’t do it alone and right now, he wasn’t even sure he had the strength to stand. In fact, he found he couldn’t even bring himself to finish the sentence. Help me, please… He asked of the spirit, the spirit that he’d stopped trying to will out of his mind because he simply didn’t have any more energy to try.

\---

Hawke couldn’t tear his eyes away from Anders and the animosity that he’d felt towards him for kissing him that night, for making it so that Fenris would run from him, just crumbled away. He understood what was being said and he nodded, the disbelief making his entire body feel heavy, but he rose to his feet and he reached as if to take his body from him.

Justice quickly intervened, knowing that the mage belonged in the elf’s arms and so, paired with the request, he pushed forward. Not enough to take over, but enough to give him his strength as he had for Anders so often over the years. The lines of light that cracked along his body were different than it had been on the mage. They flowed from the tattoos on his skin and created an even more intricate carving that lit up along with the markings themselves.

\---

Part of him wanted to withdraw. To pull back and rest while Justice took over. The idea that he’d ever want that in his life felt insane, but he was no longer so distrustful of the spirit and he deeply wanted to retreat. But he couldn’t. He needed to be present for this, it was the least that Anders deserved. “I’ll carry him.” He murmured after a hitched breath, finding the strength to rise to his feet again now that his body buzzed with the energy Justice leant him.

\---

The light that flickered to life on his skin was nothing new, but there was something different about it. Something that made Hawke stare, recognizing it for what it was, but it was failing to accept that such a thing was possible. His lips parted, as if to speak, but they ended up falling shut as he failed to bring words forth. He backed away to give him room when he rose to his feet and he was silent as he waited for him to move so he could follow. Meeting him this morning on the docks had felt so perfect, but that was long gone and he didn’t know if the feeling would ever return.

\---

He carried him silently from the docks, relieved that this was not a walled-in town where he’d have to face any guards to get outside. He didn’t know what he could possibly say to them, there was no explanation for this that anyone could understand. But he did know of a quiet place a short ways out of town that Anders had liked - a little meadow where he had gathered herbs for his salves. It had seemed easy to choose the place, but by the time he arrived, a fresh wave of grief hit him. “I can’t…” He murmured, tightening his arms cradling Anders. He couldn’t, but he had to. He knelt to set the mage to the ground, his hands sinking into the grass where he began to dig. He didn’t know how he could lay his lover to rest and simply walk away, finding himself half-tempted in his grief to just crawl into the grave with him so they could lay together and this wouldn’t be goodbye.

\---

_You can’t. He gave his life for you. It would be unjust for you to throw it away like that. He wanted you to be free, so don’t continue to chain yourself to him._

Hawke’s feet were frozen as he watched him sink to the ground and begin to dig with his hands. He could see the lines of grief on him and he felt the numbness grow stronger as he withdrew, the display too much for him. How had this happened? “Wait here,” he told him, knowing that he couldn’t let him dig his fingers raw. He turned and hurried away, going back to the town so he could find a shovel, whether to buy or steal. He returned shortly after and stood in front of him, positioning the point of the shovel on the ground and beginning to dig.

\---

_I didn’t want him to. I didn’t want the chain to break. I’ll stay with him if I want to._

He knew it wasn’t what he should do, he was just so deep in his sorrow that it seemed a viable option. He looked up when Hawke returned, having made decent progress even with just his fingers. “...Thank you.” The words were whispered. Even if the rogue never forgave him or Anders, he felt he should be part of his burial just the same. He kept digging with deep determination, meaning to move the dirt with his bare hands even if it took days, which it likely would have if Hawke had chosen not to help.

\---

He met the elf’s gaze and gave the slightest of nods, before returning to the task before him. It was hours of backbreaking work, but the shovel sped things up considerably and soon the grave was large enough to hold the mage that had laid unmoving nearby during the entire affair.

\---

When it was deep enough, he moved to Anders, pulling him back up into his arms. He could no longer bend his fingers, so he had to be careful to balance his weight just right to keep his hold on him. Rather than settle him into the ground from the top, he did climb into the grave with him, easing him down so gently it was as if he was afraid to wake him. It was time to climb out and begin to cover him, but he couldn’t, instead putting his head down on the mage’s shoulder and sobbing harshly. “I can’t...I’m sorry…” He couldn’t just leave him here.

\---

He knew what Fenris had said, that they’d both known that his heart still belonged to him, but he was beginning to doubt it. He swallowed hard and knelt at the lip of the grave, reaching down to clutch his shoulder. “We have to finish this,” he told him, his voice solemn. He was feeling his own hurt, both from what he’d learned and what he was seeing, and from burying a friend that he’d had at some point had...some feeling for.

\---

The touch made him jump, as if he hadn’t expected Hawke to stay. As if the rogue would have just left him here. They did need to finish this and it was with heavy, shaking limbs that he finally rose to his feet. The normally very graceful elf made a clumsy display of climbing out of the grave and the moment he was out, his arms were around the rogue. He had no right to lean on him, but he held him desperately, breathing choked little sobs into his shoulder.

\---

As soon as he was out of the grave, the lines of light on his skin went out as Justice retreated. He’d given him his strength for hours and the spirit was exhausted. If wasn’t for the elf’s connection to the Fade, he would have had to give in sooner, but he’d managed to make it through to the end, so that he’d put his own effort in honoring his friend.

Hawke wasn’t expecting him to suddenly latch onto him and he stood stiffly for a time, before slowly lifting his arms. There was something distant to the touch, offering comfort only because he’d come to him, not because he wanted to. He didn’t want him to hurt, but he knew that whatever had been between them before all of this… it couldn’t be the same. He remained still, waiting for him to calm down and pull himself together so they could finish.

\---

He could feel the reluctance in him and it made everything so much worse, but it was all that he could expect. He didn’t appear to be in any better shape when he finally withdrew, saying nothing as he dropped to his knees and began to push the dirt back into the grave to cover the mage. He would do this with his hands as well, not caring that they were stiff and raw.

\---

He watched him for a time, waiting until the mage was completely covered by a thin layer of dirt, before he returned with the shovel to help push it in. Filling it was easier than digging it and it was a matter of minutes before the hole was filled, the only indication of what lay below being the freshly turned soil in a the clear shape of a grave. Finished, he let the shovel fall from his hands and he took a step back, staring at the resting place of his old friend.

\---

Once it was done, he rose to his feet and backed away from the grave. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He’d done what he needed to and now that he could no longer see Anders, his desire to stay was gone. He was so weak and so sick, he just wanted to find somewhere to lay down. Anywhere but here. He looked so haunted and as if he could collapse at any moment, but he just kept backing away.

\---

The rogue had to tear his eyes away to follow the movement of the warrior backing away. He knew that they would not part, that they would have to talk and that they would have to help each other get back to some semblance of normal, but it wasn’t going to happen the way he’d hoped. The way he’d thought it would when they’d shared a desperate kiss just that morning. He made no move to follow just yet, but there was a ship this evening and he knew they would both be on it.

Justice had been quiet as they’d laid their friend to rest and as elf began to separate himself from the mage that they had shared, he spoke the only words he could think to.

_He loved you._

\---

_Then he should have stayed._

He had no idea how he was supposed to go forward from here. He had no idea how he was supposed to want to. The elf turned to go, though he didn’t know where. He just had to get somewhere quiet that he could rest until he felt there was a reason to move again. With enough rest, it might feel like there was something more than grief and emptiness left for him. It seemed unlikely at the moment, but all he could do now was try.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Events from the roleplay that come into play here. 
> 
> 1\. Anders teaches Fenris how to read.  
> 2\. Anders frequently expresses that his greatest regret about leaving Kirkwall is abandoning his clinic.

It wasn’t a task he looked forward to, but it was necessary and it was his turn. They’re weren’t on a rotation exactly, but the entire group, Merrill included, took the time to stop by the decrepit mansion to make sure that the warrior hadn’t drunk himself to death and that he had something to eat. Whether or not he would eat was a different matter, but it was better to give him the option than to let him starve himself out of apathy. It had been reasoned that he had to leave the mansion occasionally, if only to steal another bottle of wine, but they knew better than to think he would bother to find sustenance on such outings. 

He stepped through the front door, long beyond the need of knocking, and made his way to the back of the mansion where a fire flickering in the darkness was the only suggestion of life. He was unsurprised to see him slumped in a chair near the fire, looking as if he’d already managed to thoroughly soak his liver in the little time he’d been back from his outing earlier. He held a sack filled with the food he’d brought for him and as he approached, he tossed it lightly into the elf’s lap to get his attention.

“Evening, Broody,” he greeted, taking a seat in the chair opposite from him. “Heard about what happened earlier. You almost tore the new healer’s hand off.” He hadn’t been there, but he’d heard about it from Isabela and been warned of his bad mood before he came.

\---

Fenris woke with a start when the sack hit his lap, but his reflexes were hugely slowed by the wine he’d drowned himself in. He looked to the dwarf and though it took him a long moment to register what he’d said, he snorted. “I warned him never to touch me.” He sat up a little in his chair and set the sack aside. He didn’t care what the spirit in his head had to say about him refusing healing from the new mage. His wounds were very sloppily wrapped, but he’d at least bothered to cover them. 

“You don’t have to keep bringing me meals. I’m fine.” He didn’t like the frequent interruptions to his grief with his companions dropping by, but he did typically eat what they brought him and having food set in front of him was all he usually bothered to eat. He knew he should find the effort endearing, but he couldn’t bring himself to appreciate much of anything anymore.

\---

“We’ll stop bringing you meals when you start leaving this depressing sty more than once every other week.” He folded his hands over his middle and slouched in the chair, getting comfortable. “You could start tonight. Isabela told me that she invited you to Wicked Grace. You could make an appearance. Everyone wants you to come, even the healer.” The man didn’t understand why he was so despised by the warrior, but he continually tried to make nice with him, even when his head was bitten off.

\---

He shook his head, then found that movement made his headache worse and began to rub his temples. “She invites me to Wicked Grace every time she sees me. As if I want to be in a loud, crowded tavern when I can pass out in the comfort of this familiar shithole.” He reached for the nearest bottle and rattled it, hearing that it had at least a little drink left and put it to his lips. Once it was drained, he hurled it at the far wall, the shatter of the glass giving him the closest thing he found to satisfaction he had these days. “And that healer should stay away until he learns the meaning of the words ‘Don’t ever fucking touch me’. Besides, I have somewhere else that I need to go tonight.”

\---

The reaction brought with it a furl of disapproval within the elf.  _ Go with him. Play your cards, drink your alcohol, just go. _ They were things that Justice didn’t approve of, but it was better than him staying here and drinking them into a coma. If it would encourage him to be social, it was a step to getting him out of this useless rut they were in. 

The dwarf didn’t react to the bottle shattering, but he made a mental note that they were going to have to get all this glass cleaned up soon. There was so much of it that the elf was going to tear his bare feet to shreds and, knowing him, it would lead to a festering infection that he would refuse to treat and  _ that _ was a pathetic way to go. “Look, I know things have been different around here since you got back and with Blondie gone, but maybe you could cut the new guy a break?” At least  _ this _ healer didn’t get caught up in all his snide remarks and insults, so the bickering was kept to a minimum, but the warrior was even worse around him than he had been around Anders.

\---

He narrowed his eyes sharply at Varric, his lips pulling back into a snarl. “You have  _ no _ idea just how different things are. I will cut that cheap replacement a break when he learns to keep his hands off of me.” The elf rose to his feet, swaying a little to get his balance. “If he leaves me alone, we won’t have a problem. Go play Wicked Grace with your new friend, I have to go.” Now that he was upright his gait was pretty steady as he started for the door.  _ I have better things to do than play cards. I need to see what became of his clinic. _

\---

Varric watched him get up with a sad expression - that just wasn’t true at all. He had a soft spot for the apostate the size of Sundermount and it had hit him hard to learn of his death. It had hit them all unpleasantly, but it seemed that no one was taking it worse than the warrior was. There were rumors of what had happened between the two while they were away and bizarre as they were, at this point they weren’t really rumors so much as unconfirmed truths. The fact that Fenris had returned and wasn’t at Hawke’s side was even more telling than the constant drunken binges, but everyone had quickly learned better than to broach the topic with either of them. 

“Fenris,” he called after him, hopping down from the chair and trailing after him slowly. “Where are you going? Come on.”

_ No, you don’t. _ He known where the elf intended to go all along, he’d known since they left Darktown earlier that day, which is why he’d pushed him to go with the dwarf.  _ You need to go with him and take comfort in your friends. _

\---

“To Darktown. There’s something I need to do.” He called back to the dwarf without slowing. His sword was by the door but he didn’t bother with it. Any trouble he might come across he would use his hands to deal with. His fingers moved to his temples again as he walked, as if trying to massage the voice out of his mind, and he answered aloud without thinking. “There is no comfort to take. I need to do this.”

\---

Behind them, the dwarf slowed to a stop. He didn’t leave until they were out the front door and out of sight, resigned to heading to the pub alone. He’d tried and no one would be surprised - maybe next time.

_ He wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself. There’s nothing there to find, only sorrow.  _

He tried to give him a surge of encouragement, of warmth and comfort, to try to negate some of the suffering that wore them down to nothing each day. It was exhausting and even the song of the Fade that kept him willing to remain in this body wasn’t enough to keep him together, not when his host insisted on living in misery.

\---

It was always a little bit of a relief to get out of the house and his head felt a little clearer despite all the alcohol once he was out in the fresh air. He felt the little nudge from Justice and it did take the edge off of his pain. The spirit that was the only connection he felt he had left to Anders was the only one who could soothe him even a little. 

_ I know, but I have to see it. He’d want to know if someone else had stepped in to help them when he left.  _

\---

They both knew what the answer to that would be, but he wouldn’t argue further. He bothered him enough about moving past this and perhaps letting him go would allow him some sort of closure, though he knew better than to think it would help. He just wanted to hope that it would. He continued to give him what he could, attempting to prepare for what would predictably be a disaster.

\---

He felt confident that this was something he had to do right up until he reached the doorway of the clinic. The dark, empty clinic. He stepped inside and walked slowly to the nearest lamp, holding his breath as he lit it to illuminate the abandoned dwelling. For a long moment, he felt as if his heart had actually stopped as he took in the thick layer of dust on everything that had once belonged to Anders. 

Fenris felt warm tears rolling down his cheeks for the first time in months as he walked on shaking legs to the workbench. Where Anders had worked himself to the bone to do as much as he could for as many people as he could. He found himself trying to wipe away the dust and clean it off, as if making it look like new would stop this place from feeling so empty. 

The workbench wasn’t enough and when he’d cleared that as much as he could without a proper cloth, he began trying to clean up the rest of the clinic. As he did this, he found a little scrap of parchment with salve ingredients scribbled on it in a most familiar handwriting. He gave a pained little sob as he read it over and over, comprehending the words with ease but still wishing the mage was over his shoulder, patiently waiting to help him work through them. When he could look at them no longer, he tucked the parchment away where he kept an older scrap that Anders had written his name on the first night he’d started teaching him to read.

When the clinic was as clean as it was going to get, he told himself that it was time to go. That he’d done what he could here and he should leave. Justice had been right about there being sorrow here, but he’d also found the note and so perhaps he had gained a little by coming. As much as leaving seemed simple in theory, it wasn’t until he went to put out the lamp that the closure of this really set in. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands, weeping heavily with a grief so sharp it was as if he was burying Anders a second time. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to get up off the floor, feeling he may just stay here just as he had considered just staying in the grave when he’d laid his love to rest.

\---

The grief overwhelmed him and though he tried to hold it back, for Fenris’ sake, his own sorrow slipped in and contributed to the agony that brought their body to its knees.  _ It’s time to go. He wouldn’t want this _ , he repeated, trying to sooth, but failing to do so even for himself.  _ He wouldn’t want you to hurt like this. Not here. This is somewhere he was happy and...this is where he first met you. _

\---

_ It was, wasn't it?  _ He couldn't stand now if he tried. He wanted to leave and yet, he didn't want to consider shutting the door on this place and never looking back. This clinic was so important to Anders and Justice was right, this was where they first locked eyes.  _...I can't do much, but maybe I could reopen this place. I can stitch and wrap wounds, make salves… _ It wouldn't be like having a healer here, especially one as skilled as Anders. He didn't want to leave and he felt like the mage would want him to do what he could here. 

\---

The suggestion brought Justice to a loss for words, a rare occurrence, and when he finally replied, it was filled with warmth. So much warmth that it pushed past the pain and wrapped around the warrior’s heart, if only briefly.  _ Yes, he would want that.  _ He spent so much time telling Fenris what Anders wouldn’t want, but this was something that he knew would have made the mage unspeakably happy. He’d wanted someone to take his place and for it to be them… It was perfect.

\---

He felt the warmth from the spirit and it was enough to quiet his sobs to softer, more manageable weeping. Giving up entirely on the idea of moving, the elf eased the rest of the way down to his side and curled up there.  _ I’ll do what I can here. I can try to get supplies over the next few days.  _

\---

He fed him surge after surge of approval, as thrilled about the decision as he knew Anders would have been. They had spent so much time in here, wearing their body ragged, and yet Anders greatest regret about leaving Kirkwall had been about abandoning this place and the people that relied on him. He missed the mage and his passion to give without taking, but if he could help spark it in Fenris, it would be as if keeping a small part of him alive.

\---

_ We'll stay here tonight.  _ He could sleep here on the floor. He was tired enough to sleep and he wanted to do it right here. The positivity from Justice helped to soothe him further and he closed his eyes, wanting sleep to take him so he'd have the strength to do what he needed to in the morning. 


	3. Chapter 3

The days went by much faster now that Fenris had something beyond his misery to focus on. His work ethic had always been strong, but he pushed himself hard to give the place a proper cleaning. He started working odd jobs in exchange for supplies, but it still took him a little time to have enough on hand to really get the place functional for someone with no magic to mend the sick and the wounded.

If he hadn't told the dwarf that he was going to Darktown, his companions may never have found him. He'd never seen more shocked faces than when they walked into the clinic and found him bottling the latest salve he'd mixed together using the scraps of notes he'd found laying around as a guide. The pirate was the first to admit that when he'd gone missing from ruins of the mansion, they all expected him to be locked up or dead on the streets.

Most of them had offered him some gold to get the place running, but the elf refused them. However, when they brought him supplies, he would accept them with quiet gratitude and add them to his stock. He more eagerly accepted invitations to missions, saving the coin he earned and using only very little of it to feed himself, though too much of his sustenance was still coming from a bad wine habit. Keeping busy had at least stopped him from drinking through his days, waiting until his body was too weary to keep going before he would drink in failed attempts to chase away his sorrow.

When he felt he had enough to begin his real work, he began leaving the door open and the clinic well-lit. It wasn't long before a stranger stepped inside and asked if Anders was back. Fenris had tried to be prepared for that question, but he still struggled to compose himself as he told the man he would be running the clinic to honor the mage. Word spread quickly and soon he was seeing patients at all hours of the day and night, closing his door only once every few nights to drown himself in wine until he could finally sleep and start the next morning refreshed.

He dreaded having to close the clinic so he could work for more supplies, but he quickly won the hearts of Darktown and he found himself with more than enough to keep the place running. He had none of Anders’ warmth, never offering so much as a smile and saying no more than was necessary, but the people who needed him adored him just the same. Perhaps they saw that he was a man in pain that was mending others because he could not mend himself. They brought him food, which he often gave away to other patients, and supplies and though he refused gold, he often found little bags of it ‘forgotten’ in nooks and crannies of the clinic and that money went into salve and potion ingredients.

In between missions, his comrades often came by to help him around the clinic. Even Hawke came by once in awhile, but Fenris felt as if he barely knew the man anymore for how little they'd spoken. He felt as if one day he may try to change that, but for the time being he was too drained to do anything but work. Some things were beyond his ability to mend so he even accepted help from Samson, though he never offered him lyrium when the mage got tired and simply sent him home to rest. He'd stopped snapping at the man at least, but on the rare occasions that he left the clinic for a mission, he still would not let the man touch him unless he'd sustained a wound bad enough that it would be impossible to treat his patients that night.

This day was not unlike most others and he was kneeling in front of his work bench, cleaning out a gash on a little girl's knee with a salve-covered cloth. She had been sobbing when her mother carried her in, but the numbing agent in the salve had quieted her to sniffles. “Not deep enough for stitches. Just keep it clean and add more of this salve every time you change the bandages. Bring her back if it starts to swell or feel warm to the touch.” He said all of this to the mother without looking up to her as he began to wrap the child's knee. His eyes only raised to meet the glassy ones of the girl in front of him. “No more running outside after it rains, it's too slippery.” When he got his nod from her, he set to finishing up his work, pretending not to notice when the child could no longer resist reaching out to touch the pointed tip of one of his ears.

\---

A chasm had opened up between them and at this point, Hawke knew that nothing would close it. He’d thought as much, when he  watched Fenris lower Anders’ body into his grave, but it had never been clearer to him than it was when he saw him bustle around the clinic, Anders’ clinic, filling in for him and restoring the ‘sanctum’ back to what it had been a year ago. He’d never seen him work so hard in all the years he’d known him and it didn’t take keen observation to see that it wasn’t for the benefit of the people of Darktown, not when he helped person after person without so little as a smile. It wasn’t even for himself, though everyone continued to gossip about how much better he was doing since having taken on this commitment. No, Hawke knew that he was doing it for Anders, whether it be as a way of bringing himself closer to him or as a way to atone for whatever wrongs had occurred between them.

 He didn’t like coming here. It was difficult for him to watch him follow in the mage’s footsteps and when he stepped through the open door of the clinic and saw of him tending to a girl, he could practically see Anders in his place, his expression warm as he chattered to distract her from what he was doing. It was a sight that he’d once been familiar with, when he use to come to see the mage as the hour grew late and he finished up with the last stragglers of the day. He long since wished that he had never come here at all, that he’d passed by the mage entirely and that it had only been Fenris, but deep down he knew that at the time it could have been either. He looked away to clear the thought and when his eyes returned, it was the elf once more.

 He waited until he was done and they were on their way out to approach him. As much as he didn’t like seeing him devote himself to the man that had torn them apart just when everything had fallen into place, he had to admit that they were right. He was doing better. He wasn’t holing himself up and drinking himself to oblivion and for what fondness he still had for him, he was relieved to see it.

 “Fenris, do you have a moment?”

 Even if he didn’t, he knew that he would make time for whatever it was he had to say.

 ---

 He had heard Hawke enter, recognizing him by his footfalls alone, but didn’t look to him until his patients were on their way. He turned to face him, but didn’t quite meet his eyes. It was so hard to look at him now. This was the man he’d thought he wanted right up until the mage had died in his arms. Only then had he realized that Hawke was not his home and he’d lost everything because of his momentary joy when they were reunited. “Of course. I will always have time for you.” The words were spoken without any real warmth, but he did still care for Hawke and have a great deal of respect for him, so it was true enough.

\---

The response made his lips twitch, hinting towards a sad smile, and as always when he sucked it up and came to see him, he was confronted with the fact that the state of them was in part his fault. It was all of their faults, really, but Hawke knew what they could have had, what they could probably still have, if he opened his arms to him. If he’d actually pulled him in and held him after he’d climbed out of the grave, seeking him. If he did, perhaps Fenris would stop mourning. He wanted that for him. He couldn’t, though, not after everything that had happened, he couldn’t bring himself to swoop in and pretend that the broken heart he was nursing was his, no matter what the elf had claimed on the matter. 

“If you’re willing, I’ve been recruited by the Keeper to return to the Fade to help find one of her mages that is lost there.” She trusted him, after his last foray into the realm on her behalf. “I would have taken Aveline, but she has a prior engagement for the viscount.” He knew that the Fade was not a place that he would want to go if he could avoid it, but he needed a warrior at his side should things turn ugly and he wouldn’t have asked if he had another option.

Inside the elf, there was a flicker of interest from Justice. He’d gone with Hawke the last time, inside of Anders, and it had been good to return, even briefly. He missed it, even if he had long since accepted his decision to stay in this world of the living. 

\---

He met the question with his new normal state of apathy, though he did feel the hint of enthusiasm from Justice. The Fade was no real danger to him anymore. He didn’t fear death or demons, though he imagined they’d likely steer clear of him if they sensed the presence of the spirit he now hosted anyway. “I will go. When do we leave?” He moved to the desk that had once been Anders’ and picked up the quill there. He wasn’t confident in his ability to write, but he began to shakily ink a note to leave on the door so his patients would know why the clinic was closed briefly, something he always did when he left on missions.

\---

“This evening. When the sun goes down, meet me at the estate.” That was where they were all meeting up and then they would head to the Dalish camp together. He waited for him pen the note and when he finished, he paused, as if he had something to say, but he seemed to think better of it. “I will see you then.” With that, he turned and strode out of the clinic, using the nearby passage through the cellar of his estate to return home.

\---

Fenris bid him goodbye as he left, then set about finishing up his day at the clinic. When the sent his last patient home, he had a quick bite to eat as he usually did before a mission, then put his note up on the door. It was simple, stating that he was needed for a mission and he’d return as soon as he could. With that settled, he made his way to the all too familiar estate. He didn’t like to be there, not only because of the ruins of his relationship with Hawke, but because part of him wished he’d never been there in the first place. If he’d just kept to himself and had never really gotten to know either of the men, he would have never known such depths of misery. But then, he would also never have been as happy as he had been ever so briefly either.

\---

When they met, it was Varric and Samson that joined them and the dwarf had given the elf a smirk, stating how pleased he was to see him taking a break from all the scabs and stitches. The same sort of comment he use to make to Anders, when he was the one dragging himself out of the clinic to go off with them. The healer, on the other hand, just offered him a silent nod of acknowledgement and then they were on their way, heading out of the city and to the nearby camp.

When they got there, the ritual was ready to be performed and after a brief conversation with the Keeper, they settled on the ground and with Samson’s assistance and considerable helping of lyrium, they were transported into the realm of the Fade. When their consciousness awoke, the elf was glowing brightly and Justice found himself in control of their body, just as he had the last time he’d come here with Anders. He’d only taken control of it a handful of it times, so it was refreshing to be able to move about on his own, especially here where the air was sweeter than any he’d found in Thedas.

As much as he didn’t want to fall back into the depths of their mind, he knew that the elf wouldn’t want to be here without any conscious awareness of it, so with considerable effort, he eased himself back. This, of course, had not gone unnoticed and when the glow faded, Varric looked at him in concern, “You okay, Broody?” It wasn’t often that they saw sign of the spirit and it made as much sense as any for it to happen here, but still.

\---

Fenris blinked in confusion as he came back too, looking around to orient himself to where they were. “I’m fine. He is just pleased to be here. Let’s get moving.” He hadn’t been surprised that it had happened and he could feel the effort and reluctance the spirit had put into drawing back.

_I’ll let you walk us back. Just let me cut my way through any trouble they run into while they search for this mage first._

He’d never offered to let Justice take control of them if he wasn’t bleeding out and needing Samson’s magic. But this was the spirit’s home and he could feel how much he loved this place. Besides, he had no desire to be here and if he could wake up in the living world once the job was done, all the better.

\---

The offer was unexpected and the subsequent rush of gratitude was the closest thing he could give him to a smile. _I look forward to it._ He wanted to drink in what he could, so he would take his time on the way back to enjoy it while it lasted. He doubted he would return again in this body, so it would be a long time until he saw it again, if ever.

Hawke watched the exchange and when it was settled, he started forward to lead the group through what appeared to be a warped version of Sundermount. The mountain stood tall ahead of them and he had a feeling that they were in for quite the climb to find the mage. He started up the trail, but they didn’t make it very far before they were confronted by a demon that tried to lure them in, focusing on mage in particular. Samson hadn’t so much as flinched, despite the demon taking the shape of his father, and he was easily dispatched of.

It was further up the trail that the path turned strange and far from the jagged rocks that formed the cliffs of the mountain, it branched off to what seemed to be an open meadow. There was a strange peacefulness to it that did not match with what they’d seen thus far and in the distance there was a figure that was bent over the plush grass, seeming to be plucking the flowers. The figure was unmistakable, even from where they stood, and the rogue froze as he took in the sight of the dead mage gathering plants as if it was any other day, seemingly unaware of their presence.

\---

The moment Fenris’ eyes fell on him, his blood went cold. His heart clenched so hard that for a moment he was certain it had stopped completely. He began to run for him on shaking legs he could barely feel, suddenly sure that he’d gotten too drunk again and this was some sort of dream.

_Is he real? Tell me he’s really there…_

He asked that of the spirit every time he saw Anders in his dreams, but Justice never answered him. But still, he couldn’t resist asking.

\---

“Fenris! No!” Hawke called, as soon as he saw the warrior take off for him. He heard Varric curse and he knew that they all had the same thought. It was a demon and Fenris wasn’t even attempting putting up a fight. He took off after him and he could hear the footfalls behind him that confirmed that they were following. “Fenris!”

 _Slow down_ , the spirit warned, since he could not sense what the figure was while they were so far away, but the distance was closing and he didn’t want them falling into a trap. _It may be a demon, just like before._

Unlike the demon before, Anders didn’t look up, despite the yelling, as if he was unaware of anything but the field around him. He plucked a few more flowers, before straightening up, seeming to be satisfied with what he’d gathered.

\---

He heard the warnings, but he couldn’t bring himself to slow down. Part of him was half convinced that this was in fact a demon and he was about to willingly run straight into it, but his body rushed forward without the slightest hesitation.

_I can’t. It might be him. It might really be him this time._

He had no idea whether or not he’d even be able to touch him when he reached him, but he he to try. “Anders…” He choked out the name, trying to throw his arms around him as soon as he was close enough.

\---

The arms coming around him startled him and what awareness he’d been lacking came in full force. “Fenris?” He slid his arms around him in turn, as if only somewhat surprised to see him. “Where have you been? I’ve been gathering herbs all morning without you…” He sounded as if he were chastising him, but it was clear that he meant it facetiously.

With Anders pressed against them, Justice could sense him and to his astonishment, there was not a demon lurking beneath his visage. He had been with him for so long that he knew his essence better than any other. It took him aback that there was a pause in which he just soaked it in, before he spoke with a welling of emotion that mingled with Fenris’ joy. _It’s him. It’s really him._

The others caught up a moment later and Hawke, his daggers drawn, stood behind them. “Fenris, let go of him. He’s not real.” His heart was in his throat, fearful that this was something that he wouldn’t be able to resist.

\---

Fenris buried his face in his shoulder and started releasing strangled, hitching little sobs, barely able to breathe. “It’s him.” He choked out to Hawke behind him, knowing he’d be unable to pull away from the late mage if he tried. It was the only real emotion he’d felt since his breakdown the day he’d walked into the clinic for the first time since Anders’ death and the potency of it was devastating. “I thought I’d never see you again…”

\---

“Hey,” he murmured softly, his voice suddenly concerned. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” It seemed he wasn’t really aware of what had happened and where they were. He was completely focused on the warrior, not paying the three of them standing with their weapons drawn any mind.

“He’s not!” Hawke insisted, since he didn’t have any reason to believe that he would be here. As far as he was concerned, it was just a demon that was preying on his desires. He stepped up to him and grabbed his shoulder, trying to physically separate them since he wouldn’t let go willingly.

\---

“No, it’s him!” He clung desperately to Anders, using all of his strength to keep his arms around him as he was tugged. “Justice knows it too! It’s him!” He couldn’t address his lover’s questions yet, needing to make sure they weren’t pulled apart first. Even if it wasn’t really him, he wouldn’t have been willing to let go at this point.

\---

The mage was trying to soothe him, stroking his back and speaking softly to him. He’d never seen him worked up like this before and he was worried about him, but he wanted to calm him down before he questioned him further. “It’s okay,” he murmured softly, pressing a kiss to the side of his head, since he was hiding against him.

Hawke’s looked back at the others in disbelief. Samson had lowered his staff in confusion, while Varric’s crossbow had drifted uselessly to the side, his expression conflicted. The rogue turned back to the embracing pair and his daggers slowly fell, though he kept a tight grip on them.

\---

The soothing words only made him sob harder, having never thought he’d hear that voice again. “It’s not okay. I want to stay here. I don’t want to go back if you’re here.” He belonged in the land of the living, but it had been some time since he’d really felt alive. There was nothing left for him there and the miniscule amount of good he’d been doing would be done so much better by a real healer like Anders had been.

\---

“Go back where? You can stay with me, why wouldn’t you?” He started to urge him to the ground, so they could sit together in the grass. Solid as he seemed, there was something a little off to him, an aura of sorts, that made it clear he wasn’t quite as substantial as the living that were visiting.

 _We can’t stay._ As much as he wished to, he didn’t belong here. This was a land of spirits and demons and if he tried to stay, he would die. If not at hands of a demon, then from starvation as the days passed without food to be found. _We’ll have to go back, but this time you can say goodbye. That must be why he’s here, they brought him here for you and now we can have closure._

Hawke, it seemed, was having similar thoughts and he reached for his shoulder again, this time just trying to get his attention and keep him grounded. “...we’ll give you a few minutes and then we have to move on, okay?” He wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t a demon, but he had to reason that Justice would be able to tell the difference. If Fenris wasn’t lying, well, he knew that the spirits of the living passed into the Fade, so maybe it was really him.

\---

He looked to Hawke, the touch managing to draw his attention ever so briefly, and nodded vaguely. He didn’t sink to the grass with Anders so much as he collapsed, raising his face to meet his eyes but never letting up on his tight hold on his body. “No, we can stay. There won’t be another goodbye. We’ll stay here together and someone else will take care of the clinic. Samson, he likes the clinic and he’d be so much better there than me.” He was talking to both Anders and Justice, his choked voice almost frantic as if he thought Justice could force him away from Anders at any moment.

\---

“Please, love, calm down. I’m here.” He kept his arms around him, but his hold wasn’t as desperate, failing to understand what was so urgent. “We can stay here as long as you like.” Whatever it took for him to feel better, he’d do it. There was nothing else to do, except perhaps pick more herbs and that could wait.

 _You’ll die if we stay and he wouldn’t want you to do that to yourself. Ask him, he’ll tell you._ If they explained this to him, he would understand and he would agree. _He doesn’t remember that he’s dead, but if you tell him, he’ll want you to go home._ He knew the mage well enough to know he was right.

The three of them had moved away from the pair, giving them space, but they remained close enough that they could jump in if needed. Hawke and Varric began to speak in hushed voices, almost arguing, and Samson just listened, his eyes fixed with rapt attention on the reunited pair.

\---

“We’ll just stay here. I’m not going back.” He kissed him, though he had to keep breaking what he meant to be a deep kiss into brief little pecks. His breathing was too ragged for anything more. _I can’t go back. I’m sorry, I know you liked my body as a host, but I can’t go back. You can have it if you like, just leave my spirit here with him. He doesn’t have to know we’re dead._

\---

“Of course not,” he assured him, but whatever else he might have said was lost as he fell into the kisses. They were soft and sweet and he returned them intently, his hand lifting to touch his cheek with the tips of his fingers and brush his jaw with his thumb. The touch soon became more sure and he pulled him in so he could rest his head on his shoulder once more. “I would never leave you and you would never leave me.” They were in this together.

The offer made him pause thoughtfully and like the fateful day that Anders had broken down and made it clear there would be no moving on, he wondered if it would be best to give him what he desired. If this was truly where he wanted to be, what harm would there be for anyone if he returned with his body and to do the things he’d wanted to for years? The body was perfect for his needs and without someone to share it with, he didn’t have to deal with fickle whims and unreliable drives of his hosts. He was quiet as he considered it carefully, giving the elf a little peace with his lost lover.

\---

Once his head was tucked against Anders’ shoulder again, he finally began to calm a little, his harsh hitching breaths beginning to slow. He would stay here and leave everything else behind. “I missed you so much.” He would never miss him again though. If he could stay here, there was nothing that could separate them.

\---

“Missed me?” His head cocked, looking down at him curiously. “I wasn’t gone that long, was I?” He’d only left to pick his herbs, though he knew they normally did that together. They normally did everything together. He began to rock them, wanting to help him calm down the rest of the way. Deciding that it didn’t matter, he ran his fingers through his hair. “I missed you too.”

\---

He felt his lips turn up a little as if to smile, but he was still too worked up to do anything but weep. At least Anders hadn’t been lonely here. To the mage, they hadn’t been apart any time at all. “It feels like it’s been a very long time. I think I had one of my nightmares again.” He murmured to him, trying to give his lover a reason for both his words and his current state.

\---

“I shouldn’t have left without you,” he chastised himself, feeling guilty that he’d gone off without him and left him to his nightmares. “I’m sorry.” He slid a hand beneath his chin to tip it up and pressed a kiss to his lips, before letting it fall and rest on his chest so he continue to relax.

 _Are you certain?_ Justice finally spoke up, having come to the conclusion that if this was what Fenris wanted, he wouldn’t force him to leave. He didn’t want him to stay, but it wouldn’t be right to force his will on him if it would hurt him and something better could be done with his body.

\---

“It’s alright. I’m awake now and you’re right here.” He murmured after the soft kiss. Fenris could scarcely remember the last time he felt this good and he knew the pain would be that much worse if he had to return to his life without him.

_I am certain. I trust you to do more good with my body than I ever could have. Just make sure you protect Hawke and the others until they see their missions through. I’m sure you’ll return to the Fade eventually and Anders and I will be glad to see you again._

\---

The words reassured him that it was the right decision, just like it had been for Anders. _Very well. I will leave your body and take you with me. Then I will return to it when it is empty._ It was a simple enough process and, since Fenris was already here in the Fade, he would linger even after he died. _...I will miss you. Both of you._ He never really had the chance to say goodbye to Anders and he wanted to change that, but Fenris didn’t want Anders to know what was happening.

It was then that Hawke returned, approaching the pair slowly. His heart was heavy and he felt oddly resentful as he looked at them. “Fenris, it’s time to go.” He knew better than to think that he would want to, but he wasn’t going to ‘leave him here’.

\---

The elf looked to Hawke, finally calming now that he knew he’d be staying. His eyes were so relieved and resigned when they settled on the rogue. “I’m sorry. For everything. He’s going to look after all of you and be far better than I ever was.”

_We will miss you also. But we will see you again. Thank you, Justice._

\---

His brows pinched, not quite understanding what he meant. “Think about what you’re doing. You’re not staying here and we’re not leaving without you.” He stepped up to him and offered his hand, looking at him intently. “You’re going to come back with me, okay?” He leaned down a little, so his hand was right in front of him, his expression far more intense than any he’d offered him since they’d returned to Kirkwall.

Anders looked up at the rogue, as if seeing him for the first time, and he turned to Fenris as if perplexed. “What is Hawke doing here?” There was none of the pain in his voice that had been there the last time he saw him, so it was clear that he didn’t remember the way everything had crumbled between them. The rogue’s eyes shifted to him and he saw him frown - there seemed to be a flicker of sorrow in his eyes, but then they returned to Fenris expectantly.

\---

“He found us. It’s alright, I’m here with you.” He gave the mage’s cheek a light caress with the backs of his fingers before looking back to Hawke. “It will be better for everyone if I stay. None of you really want me there anyway. I’ve been a burden since I came back because too much of me stayed with him. What you need from me will still be there to help you.” He was sure he was baffling the both of them, but he wasn’t about to say that the spirit would be puppeting the muscle Hawke needed to finish his quest now that Anders was more aware of their surroundings.

\---

“That’s not true. It’s not better for anyone. We’re not- _I’m_ not leaving you to die. It’s time to go. Say goodbye and let’s move on.” He shifted his hand insistently, all but demanding that he take it.

The words made Anders blink and he turned to Fenris again, this time apprehensive. “Die? What is he talking about?” He shook his head, denying that his words meant anything. “You’re not going to die.” There was no danger here, why would Hawke say that there was?

\---

“Anders, it’s alright.” He assured him, even giving him a little smile through his tears. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled. “Everything is alright now, I don’t want you to fret.” The elf turned his eyes back to the rogue then and shook his head. “I know you’ve all done your best to look after me, but you can’t even look me in the eyes, Hawke. You left me behind a long time ago and that’s alright. It’s time for me to go. Goodbye.” He looked to the others, even the mage he’d mistreated until he’d started helping him in the clinic. “You’ve all been good to me. Until we meet again.”

_You have been good to me too, Justice. I’m ready now._

\---

Hearing him say his ‘goodbyes’ to the wrong people riled him and rather than wait for him to take his hand, he grabbed the front of his breastplate and forced him up. “Are you kidding me? That’s why you’re doing this? Anders is d-...”

With a flash of light, the elf’s hand wrapped around Hawke’s wrist and Justice peeled it off of them. “This is what he wants. Step away, Hawke.”

Varric, who had grown alarmed by the goodbye, had hurried over and his crossbow was lifted once more, pointed half-heartedly at the elf. As if he would actually use it on his companion or as if it would do anything to help. “Justice, he’s not thinking clearly. Whatever it is you’re planning, don’t.”

“Don’t you dare!” Hawke agreed, his hands curling into fists since they were lacking his daggers. “Letting him die accomplishes _nothing._ Come back with us and we’ll take care of him. We’ve been taking care of him and… we’ll do even better. I’ll do better.” As angry as the accusation made him, unfair in his eyes, he _had_ pushed him away and he’d known all along that he could have been someone for him to lean on. His own hurt had gotten into the way and he hadn’t wanted to open himself up to him, even for friendship, because then he would have had to deal with the betrayal and the feelings that he still had for him.

“...Justice?”

Of all the voices addressing him, it was Anders’ tiny question drew his attention and he looked down to him, his expression softening. “It’s okay. I know you’re confused, but I want you to close your eyes. Just close them until I tell you, okay?” The mage stared at him, perturbed, so he turned to him and crouched before of him, taking hold of a hand and cupping it between both of theirs. “I promise that it will be okay. Close your eyes.”

With great reluctance, the mage did as he was told and closed his eyes. Even when the hands withdrew, he kept his eyes closed, waiting for permission to reopen them so all of this could be explained to him.

Hawke watched the exchange and as soon as Justice returned to standing straight, he grabbed him and started dragging him away. “He’s coming with us.” Varric began to say his name, warningly, but the spirit reacted before he could get it out and the rogue was thrown from him in a burst of energy that was far stronger here than it would have been in the realm of the living. He hit the ground roughly and both of his companions ran over to him, to make sure he was okay.

That gave Justice the time he needed. He stepped away from all of them, giving them space and lowering them to the ground so that their body would not fall when it was emptied. From there, it was simple as just leaving it. In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t even think about doing it, as abandoning his host tore them out alongside him and killed them, but since it was what they both wanted, he would give it to them.

He wasted no time. The body’s glow faded and as it went limp and then from it, the spirit, in his true intangible form, rose up from where it lay and came to his feet. He turned to look down at the body, waiting, knowing that another would follow.

\---

When Fenris regained awareness, he felt...heavy. Unspeakably heavy. It was as if something awful was weighing him to the ground and his instinct was to try to pull free of it. Doing so was easier than he would have imagined and he rose to his feet eagerly, feeling so much better once he was off the ground. He looked down to his feet and saw himself, his body anyway, and realized that it was his corpse that had felt so heavy on him. Free of it, he felt better than he ever had. He gave Justice a smile when his eyes rose to him, but it was Anders he moved to, wrapping his arms around the mage who had patiently kept his eyes closed. “It’s okay.”

\---

The place that Justice has chosen to lay was behind the mage, so when the arms came around him and his eyes popped open, he didn’t know what had just occurred. “Justice?” he repeated uncertainly, though the glow was gone from his eyes and his voice had returned his low rumble. He knew it wasn’t him, but he was bewildered as to why the spirit had been wearing his lover’s body at all.

Justice watched him return to Anders and, realizing that this was his chance to say goodbye before he returned to the empty body, he trailed behind him. He didn’t cut in immediately, giving them space for the reunion that they deserved after their time apart and what they’d done for each other.

\---

“No, it’s me. I’m staying.” Fenris promised him and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. For a long moment he simply held him, taking a moment to bask in his relief that he would never go without holding Anders ever again. When he could finally bring himself to ease his hold on him a little, he saw that Justice was waiting for his chance and he moved back a step though he couldn’t bring himself to move away too far. “Justice is here too. He wants to talk to you.”

\---

That made him feel better and though none of this was making sense, coming from Fenris he accepted it without question. Even when he brought his attention to the spirit, he didn’t seem to be as thrown by the fact that he was not inside his head, but standing before him in a form that he’d not seen since he first met him. He turned a little, to face him, but the spirit quickly stepped closer, so he would not catch sight of the body out of the corner of his eye.

“Anders.” There had been a handful of times since abandoning him in which he wondered if he’d done the right thing, but seeing them together now, he knew that he had. The spirit crouched before him, as he had before, and still the mage seemed to accept what was happening without making sense of it. “You are my greatest friend and that will never change.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I am, but I think that I will see you again.” If they were here and he returned, he would find them whenever they might be. He reached out, as if to touch him, but a sudden yell startled him and made him jerk back.

“No!” Hawke had regained the consciousness that he’d lost and as he pushed himself up, he caught sight of the scene in front of them. The three of them together and the body lying tellingly behind. Varric, who had watched it happen from afar as Samson tended to the rogue, had already spit his curses and he took hold of Hawke’s arm to stop him as he stormed over. The dwarf was pale and his grip was weak, so it didn’t take more than a rough tug to break away from it. He stood before them, his expression twisted with fury, “How could you?!” he demanded and though he spoke to both of them, his watering gaze was fixed on the elf.

\---

Fenris flinched at the rogue’s cry and stood, turning to face him as he stormed over. “It will be alright. Justice is going to help you and he’ll do so much more than I could. ...I’ll miss you, Hawke. I’ll miss everyone. But this is where I belong.”

\---

“I don’t want Justice! I want you!” He was still yelling and devastated as he was, the anger was what was pouring out of him above anything. “You want to be a martyr?! Well, fuck you, you’re not, you’re just selfish. I didn’t leave you, you left me. _Twice_.” With that, he turned from them and tore away, needing to get as far from them as he could.

Samson was quick to follow, knowing that he couldn’t let the rogue wander off on his own and he spared Fenris only a nod and a quick assurance that he would watch the clinic, before taking off after him. Varric, on the other hand, hung back and he peered at them with remorse, “Did you really have to do that? Broody, you had a place with us, you knew that, didn’t you?”

\---

Fenris took the verbal lashing with a deep ache in his chest and could give nothing but a weak apology in return as the rogue stormed away. He couldn’t argue because he was absolutely right. He was being selfish. This was the second time he was casting Hawke aside to fall into the mage he once despised. As much as the truth of it hurt him, what hurt more was that if he’d seen an ounce of this in him before, he would have stuck around if only for a friendship. His eyes turned to Varric and he shook his head. “I didn’t. I know that you all tried to help me, you more than most. I’m sorry, Varric.”

\---

“You did, it’s just our fault that you didn’t see it.” He shook his head to himself, the remorse thickening into a knot in his throat,  before he turned his eyes on the mage. “Gods, I miss you, Blondie.” The mage was staring at him, disturbed, but when he uttered his name questioningly, Varric offered him a rough smile. “Don’t you worry, I have all your stories down and I tell them even better than you do.” He took a step back from them, not wanting to draw it out any more than they already had. “You two take care of each other.” With that, he started off the way they came, moving quickly to catch up with what companions he had left.

When he was gone, Anders, having stood, turned his anxious gaze on the warrior. “Fenris, what’s going on?”

Justice had remained silent and though he hadn’t said all that he’d intended to, to either of them, it was time for him to go. He interrupted the pair, only to give Fenris a nod meant to tell him to keep Anders distracted. He made his way back to the body so he could return to it and go after the rest of them - he would do what had been asked of him and keep watch over the others.

\---

Fenris returned the nod, warmth in his eyes. He would miss the spirit, but he had no doubt that they would see him again. He looked back to Anders then and smiled, his lover’s innocent bewilderment chasing away some of the ache lingering in him after the goodbyes. “They just wanted me to go out on a mission with them. I’m not feeling well after that nightmare though. I’m just going to stay right here with you, okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead pressing a soft but needy kiss to his lips.

\---

The explanation wasn’t really satisfactory, but he was distracted by the lips pressing to his and he fell right into it, sliding his arms back around him. When the kiss was broken, he pulled back a little to look at him, concern in his eyes. “Are you feeling a little better now?” His hand lifted and he tucked some of his hair back behind his ear.  

Behind them, Fenris’ body rose and Justice spared them a final look. Seeing the kiss brought a smile to his lips as he turned to follow the rest of them out, his steps sad, but determined.

\---

“A little.” He tipped his head lightly into the touch, craving any little bit of affection he could take from him after months without. Part of him wondered if he would also forget they were dead. If eventually they would just wander this place in blissful ignorance. That was fine with him, but he hoped he might remember if only so he would better appreciate having Anders by his side. “Just stay close to me today and I’ll be fine.”

\---

“Okay, I will,” he replied softly, wrapping him up tightly in his arms, wanting more than anything to chase away any lingering distress. “I love you.” Unbeknownst to him, that had been his last words to him. He’d declared his love for him at the peak of his agony and then given up everything to make him happy. He would have never known that in order for the warrior to find the happiness he wanted for him, he would have to give up everything in return.

\---

The words gave him a deep ache, a stark reminder of the last thing Anders had said to him. But it was gone as quickly as it had come. This wasn’t another goodbye. There would be no more of those. He cuddled in close, tucking his cheek against his lover’s shoulder. This was exactly where he belonged and exactly where he would stay. “I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.” More than he’d known himself until he’d lost him. Already he felt as if he was beginning to forget the hurt in Hawke’s eyes and the heartache in Varric’s voice. There was only the loving arms around him and the quiet, peaceful meadow around them. He felt himself start to smile as he closed his eyes and realized that he’d never felt more at home. In this place that he normally would have hated and even feared, he was entirely content to stay forever so long as he could stay in the arms of Anders.


End file.
